


I'm Not Crazy...I'm Just A Little Unwell

by KeiraRizu



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Punk, Body Modification, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Personalities, Piercings, Romance, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 10:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18179687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiraRizu/pseuds/KeiraRizu
Summary: Ventus was a bright, artistic young boy. He was going places- he had a bright future ahead of him. It made it that much more shocking when Roxas appeared. Now Roxas has to try to live a life that isn't his, with a family he doesn't know, in a body he feels like he stole. When he meets a certain red head, he begins feeling a desire he thought he was born without... the desire to live.





	I'm Not Crazy...I'm Just A Little Unwell

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story of those with mental health, especially the struggle with DID. I do not suffer from it, but while playing KH3 and the "Multiple Hearts in a Single Heart" theme inspired me to write this.  
> Please enjoy!

Roxas wasn't crazy. At least... he didn't feel crazy. If anything, the rest of the world felt nuts.

Ventus Machida was a pretty normal guy. He had an older brother and a younger sister. A mother, a father. They all lived in a small, three bedroom house in a gentle, clean neighbourhood. They were an average, happy family.

Ventus wanted to be an artist, or so Roxas had been told. He had fantastic talent, though his passion was rooted in comics. He had stacks and stacks of them, and had even begun publishing his own web series. He was on the road to success at the young age of fourteen.

All that changed the weekend before his first year of high school.

Ventus went to a house party thrown by an art teacher from his soon to be school. He had received an invite through his parents email, a way for the new students to get to know the others in the art program. It was supposed to be safe, he thought.

The first thing Roxas remembers is lying in a laundry room. He was naked, sore, and sticky. He sat up, a pounding in his head. He reached up to his face, feeling the wet, sticky substance. He pulled it away and his eyes widened. Blood.

His eyes found a pair of baggy pants and a tshirt and slipped them over his aching body. He was confused, disorientated, and lost. The only thing his brain could remember was _Roxas_.

According to the reports, Ventus was lured to the basement by some upperclassmen, and they took turns raping the boy. They had hit him a bit too hard when he resisted, and caused a small concussion.

That is why experts say Ventus went to sleep and Roxas was born. The combined physical and mental stress separated the boys mind in an effort to protect itself.

They assured Ventus' parents it was temporary, that when Ventus felt safe, he would return.

That was two years ago.

“Ventus! Dinner!” the voiced carried up the stairs, into the boys room.

Roxas took a deep breath. His doctor suggested using that name to bring out the sleeping persona. It has yet to work.

Roxas stopped fighting it a few weeks in. He knew he'd drive himself crazy fighting for his identity. To these people, he was Ventus. To him, they were _strangers_.

He pushed himself off of his bed, moving towards his door. The smell of curry hit him in the face as soon as he had opened it. Apparently it was Ventus' favourite dish... but Roxas didn't care either way.

He waded through the strong smell, arriving at the kitchen table. He sat down beside Namine, the only one who seemed to understand him in this _family_. She was also the only one who ever calls him Roxas- though only when their _Mother_ couldn't hear. She smiled up at her him, mouthing _Hi Roxas_.

Sora was absent from the table. He hadn't been home in over two months.

Roxas didn't blame him. He wouldn't feel safe either.

His _Mother_ sat at the table, smiling. “So, Ventus honey. Does it smell good? I know it's your favourite.”

Roxas glanced down, noticing her white knuckle grip on her fork. He forced a smile, picking up his own fork. “Yeah _Mom_ , I'm pretty excited.” A lie. He was always lying. He lied for his _Mother_.

He spooned some in his mouth, making a false yum noise. A moment later a fork came whizzing by his head. His _Mother_ was standing, eyes wide and face red with anger. “You fucking LIAR! You aren't my son! Give me back my fucking son! GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!”

Their _Father_ stood, restraining her. His little _Sister_ ran from the room, shrieks spilling out as she fled. Roxas sighed, standing from the table.

“I... don't know what to do. I am trying my best to be like him-”

“But you _aren't him_ ,” his _Mother_ spat. “And you will _never_ be him.”

Roxas knew that all to well. What ever brightness Ventus had, Roxas was lacking. He was more of a black void, sucking in the happiness of those around them. How could darkness ever produce light?

“Son, just go back to your room. I'll fix you something later,” his _Father_ told him over his shoulder, pulling his wife towards the kitchen. “And don't forget about your meeting with Dr. Ansem tomorrow.”

Roxas nodded silently, turning to go back to his room. He passed his _Sister_ on the stairs, and he felt a pang of what he thinks is guilt. He watched her small, shivering body, huddled in on itself, and he wished he could bring her _Brother_ back. He wanted to fix what he felt he had so badly broken.

Of course, he knew that was impossible. The only person who could bring Ventus back was Ventus. Until then, Roxas was stuck driving the ship, like it or not.

He continued passed the girl silently, entering his own room and flopping on the bed.

 _I wonder what Ventus would do right now... would he cry? Would he draw? Call someone? Punch a wall?_ Roxas idly thought to himself. He rolled over onto his side, and stared at a cork board hung on the wall, in the shape of a spaceship.

Attached were pictures, of a face Roxas recognized as his own. Instead of his normal, neutral expression, he was smiling. The him in these photos seemed so happy and free. He had his whole life ahead of him- that face held dreams for the future.

Roxas placed a hand on his heart, feeling it steadily thump. At times like these, he tended to ponder his existence. What was he, really? He felt like a mere shadow of a human, a wisp of what should be.

He could feel things, his nerves worked, and so did his senses... but if you asked Roxas what his favourite colour was, he'd draw a blank. Did he even have a favourite anything? Did he like anything? Hate anything?

Did he even really feel anything?

At some point during the night, his _Father_ came into his room with a sandwich on a plate. No words exchanged them as he left it on Roxas' desk. They never talked unless it was necessary... and he liked that. He didn't have to try to think of the right answer, the correct response. It was a comfortable coldness.

Roxas ate his sandwich, some deli meat, staring out his window at the moon.

XxX

“Hello, Roxas,” the smooth voice slithered around him like a snake. He sat in a too clean, bright white office. His eyes took in the middle aged man with snow white hair. His skin was tan, but still looked young, despite his years.

“Ansem,” Roxas replied with a nod. He hated these weekly sessions. It was always the same- same questions, same answers, same notes, same looks, same-

“Now Roxas, I hear there was an outburst at dinner last night,” Ansem cut through Roxas' thoughts, bringing him back to the present.

“Yes. My _Mother_ got upset with me. It seems I wasn't super convincing as Ventus,” Roxas answered in a near bitter voice.

Ansem wrote something in his book. “So you still see yourself as separate from Ventus? Interesting.... Now, what do you consider Vanitas?”

Roxas' body froze, a chill up his spin. “Vanitas is...angry” a lump formed in his throat.

Did they not realize by now saying his name summons him like fucking Beetlejuice?

Ansem continued, seemingly ignorant to the change in the boy. “Do you think I could have a chance to talk to Vanitas, Roxas? Maybe he knows something about Ventus...”

Roxas opened his mouth to answer-

Darkness.

XxX

Roxas opened his eyes to find himself in a park. He took a moment to search for his most recent memory- he was in his therapists office when...

Roxas flopped onto the grass, looking up at the clouds. If he had to guess, Vanitas made an appearance, just like Ansem wanted. “I wonder... how it went,” he mumbled to himself.

Not well, he suspected. Why else was he sitting out here? Vanitas probably carried him off here after doing god knows what to god knows who.

Vanitas was... different from Roxas. He first appeared the night his _Mother_ snapped. The family was having a friendly game of Monopoly, and then his _Father_ made an inside joke, and Roxas didn't laugh.

All he really remembers in screaming, terrible, vicious, gutteral screaming. It was all too much for her, and everything she had been holding back came rushing forth- straight at Roxas.

And it seems at that moment, Vanitas took over. He tore up the table, destroyed the china cabinet, and broke Soras arm. When Roxas had finally come to, his hands were a bloody mess, his _Brother_ was lying at his feet and his mother was a sobbing mess.

After that night, Sora went to stay with his best friend, Riku, and Roxas hadn't seen him since.

Why... did Ventus have to disappear? Roxas didn't fit here, he felt how wrong he was from the core of his being. He wasn't equipped to deal with this life he's been given... he wasn't even sure he had a will to live it. Why did Ventus leave him with such a heavy burden?

As Roxas sunk into the comfort of his own thoughts, eyes sliding closed, when-

“Ven?” a voice called out. Roxas' eyes shot open, head turning to find the source of the voice. His eyes widened as an unfamiliar redhead bounded over, waving.

Roxas sat up, taking in the stranger. He hadn't seen many guys like him, at least not around his neighbourhood. He wore a tight t-shirt with some logo Roxas didn't recognize, along with a pair of slightly baggy jeans with rips in the knees. What really drew his attention was the amount of ink and metal on him. His ears sported large tunnels, as well as many smaller rings going up it. Black designs ran up both of his arms, disappearing under his sleeves. He wore a chain around his neck with a weird distorted heart.

The stranger plopped himself onto the grass, pulling his headphones off and stuffing it into his messanger bag. “Wow, I thought that was you! How have you been, man?”

Roxas shifted uncomfortably. This happens occasionally. Someone who knew Ventus... before would chat him up, and he did his best to answer like his other self would. Best case scenario they think Ventus has turned into a weirdo and find their own excuse to leave. “I've been pretty good, school has been pretty tough though.”

The red head laughed, nodding. “Yeah, Sora told me you got into that badass art program at that school I cant pronounce.”

Roxas forced a smile. He no longer qualified for the art program. After all, Ventus was the artist, not him. After it was clear the talented one wasn't coming back anytime soon, Roxas found himself at a nearby public school. “So you know Sora,” he found himself voicing his thought out loud.

The stranger stopped laughing, quirking a brow. “Uh... it'd be weird if I didn't know him. He dated my sister Kairi...” he trailed off, looking into Roxas eyes. “Well that's weird.”

Roxas leaned back, a little too far back, his brows scrunching together in concern. “What is?”

“You look just like him, but your not really Ven, are you?” the stranger spoke with genuine curiosity. That was new for Roxas, he had gotten resentment, confusion, uneasiness... but this man seemed interested.

“That's because I'm not...really the Ven you know,” Roxas admitted, watching the strangers face for shock, disgust, anything.

“Well who are you, then?” he asked, with a pierced eyebrow raised.

“I think my name is... Roxas. That's the name I remember, anyways.” What was he doing? If he was using his brain, he'd stand up and walk home, back to the safety of his warm room. Instead, Roxas was oddly drawn into the warmth in this mans eyes. It had been so long since someone was interested in _him,_ not Ventus, just him.

Even if his curiosity amounted to just that, a small part of Roxas felt... something. Something good, something he'd never felt before- and he welcomed it.

“Roxas huh? I like it, kinda punk if you ask me. Mines Axel- got it memorized?” The stranger now known as Axel pointed to his temple, tapping it twice, grinning. “So, Roxas. Why are you goin' around pretending to be Ventus?”

Roxas stared at him blankly. “Well... it's simpler then explaining the truth to a passerby... a non essential.”

Axel made a mock pained noise, holding his chest. “Non essential? I'm wounded! Your brother dated my sister forever ago, that makes us practically family!”

“No it doesn't,” Roxas pointed out, face unchanging.

Axel made a face, dropping his hand. “Your a real stick in the mud, kid. Well I'm establishing myself as essential. So c'mon, tell me the truth.”

Roxas stared at him for a moment, weighing his options. Maybe it was better to tell him. Then he'd label the boy as crazy and leave. Yes, that seemed the quickest way. “Ventus was in an... accident, and his mind went to sleep. Seems like I was created to run things while he mentally recovers.”

Whatever Axel expected the 'truth' to be, that wasn't it. He blinked a few times, his brain chewing on what he'd just heard, his brow furrowing in concentration. “So... is this like a split personality thing? No wait theres an actual term...”

“Dissociative Identity Disorder,” Roxas cut in, offering the term he's heard countless times.

“Yeah, that's the one!” Axel excalaimed, like he got the answer right on a game show- all smiles. “So wait... your not Ventus' long lost secret government evil twin?”

Roxas felt his lip twitch at that. That was weird. “Nope. Just a regular imaginary friend.”

Axel grin, if possible, grew. “This is fucking _cool_ dude! I've never met someone with DID before!”

“And you're the first person to call me interesting. I've heard cold, scary, monster, but never...” Roxas trailed off, looking at his own feet.

“Yeah, well those people are assholes,” Axel shot back, patting the smaller boy on the back.

“No.... they just miss the person whose body I stole,” Roxas felt himself sinking in a pit of despair, darkness swallowing him.

Axel snorted at that. “Now that is bullshit, dude. The way I see it, Ven ditched them and stuck you with the backlash. You didn't steal anything dude.”

Roxas head shot up, eyes wide, looking at Axel. “You... don't think this is my fault?”

Axel furrowed his brow, lifting his hand to playfully punch him in the shoulder. “Anyone blaming _you_ is the real monster. What a fucked up thing to say to a kid!”

Roxas felt something wet on his cheek, and Axel went from confused to panicked. Roxas touched his face, clear liquid on his fingers. “What...?”

“Shit, I didn't mean to make you cry! Gah, me and my big stupid mouth. I'm sorry!” Axel began rummaging in is bag, pulling out a wadded up tissue. “Gah, thats gross,” he mummbled, tossing it over his shoulder.

Roxas smiled, a real, true smile. This was the first time he could remember feeling. This... stranger seemed to know exactly what Roxas wanted to hear...

“No... I should be thanking you, Axel. Thank you...”

Suddenly a ringing cut through the air, and Roxas felt a vibrating in his pocket. He pulled out his phone, and a shiver rn up his neck. Three missed calls from _Father_.

XxX

 


End file.
